


The Ariadne Anomaly

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more Arthur dropped down into sleep, the more he saw reminders of her. But he couldn't focus on that, not while he had a job to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ariadne Anomaly

At first, it was something innocuous: a notebook on the desk that wasn't his, with flowing handwriting and angled spires sketched out in the margins, a handkerchief tucked inside his suit jacket that wasn't his, the pocket square design a riot of color instead of the subdued patterns he preferred while on a job. Then Arthur started paying attention to his surroundings while doing the point work on an extraction. Despite whatever the architect designed, he could see the hotel from Ariadne's design on the Fischer job. He was sure that if he actually went to the building, he would recognize the lobby, see the settee where he had kissed her, see the hotel rooms and the stairwells with the paradoxical cliffs yawning wide beneath him.

This wasn't right. He hadn't seen her in a long time. Not since—

No. No, he wasn't about to think about that. Not now, not while on a job, when he had to pay attention, he had to be the consummate professional.

Arthur tried to tell himself he was imagining things, that it was the stress of a particularly difficult extraction, that it was worry over Cobb's well-being or how James and Philippa were faring. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, illusions within dreams he otherwise wouldn't have, a longing that he shouldn't indulge in. His subconscious obviously wanted to see Ariadne again; it was going to be the only way he could, as much as he didn't want to accept it.

The more Arthur dropped down into somnacin-induced sleep, the more the reminders came. There was the fabric of her favorite jacket, the color of her hair and strains of some of her favorite songs drifting through the air of a dream. He could hear the sound of her voice singing along, could almost see the shadows shift in the shape of her.

And then he saw her, clear as day. Ariadne stood in the shadow of the hotel she had built for the Fischer job, wearing her favorite red jacket over one of his crisp white button down shirts, a pair of comfortable jeans and ankle high boots. She grinned at him, raising a hand in greeting, then stepped backward to fade into the crowd.

_No. Not again._

Arthur tore after her, heedless of the projections milling about or starting to stare after him. All he could see was her, the curl of her brown hair just ahead of him. The job didn't matter anymore, the secrets weren't worth digging for, the money wasn't good enough.

He wanted Ariadne. He _needed_ Ariadne.

The ground grew icy, and he slipped and slid along the pavement, never taking his eyes off of Ariadne's disappearing form. _NO!_ He couldn't let her go, not after all this, not when she was here and looking just as she had that fateful day…

And then he was falling, colliding with the side of a building, smashing his head soundly against rough brick and cement. Stunned, Arthur could only lie there, feeling like a failure. Of course this wasn't real. Of course this wasn't truly Ariadne. She was gone, he was alone, and there was nothing he could do about that. He simply missed her too much, and it was his own foolishness that had brought him to this point. Some point man he made, if he could be so easily distracted by his own subconscious. This had to be a sign to get out of the business. He was getting sloppy, and it was only a matter of time before that translated to the real world, and he wound up with a bullet in his brain for staying too long where he wasn't wanted.

A hand extended itself into his vision. Arthur looked up and froze when he saw Ariadne standing there, hand outstretched to help him up. "But…"

"You still need me to save you," she told him, quirky grin on her face. 

"Ariadne?"

She laughed, sounding bright and vibrant, and the surrounding dream seemed to dim and fade away. Arthur grasped her hand, feeling it as possibly the strongest thing around him. She was his anchor, the reason to stay sane and stable. She hadn't asked to be, but she had become his purpose when he was cast adrift after Cobb's retirement.

"I missed you," he said, admitting the sentiment aloud for the first time.

"I know." She stood on tip toes once he stood up, and leaned in for a kiss. "This isn't healthy, Arthur. You know what can happen if this goes on too long."

"But it's the only way I'll get to see you."

He could hear the plaintive wail in his voice. As much as he hated it, Arthur couldn't help himself either. His need for her was a physical ache, a palpable loss he had never really confronted before, not until he saw her here in the dream.

Now her expression took on a sad cast. "We were never supposed to be like Dom and Mal, Arthur. We were supposed to be better than that. We weren't going to get lost in dreams, weren't going to go to deep, weren't going to push boundaries that should never be crossed." She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "Arthur. Stop torturing yourself. Don't do this. You know you have to let go. You know you need to wake up."

His first instinct was to scream at her. To insist she was wrong. He wasn't Dom, this wasn't the same, he couldn't face reality without her.

_You need to wake up._

Ariadne gave him another soft kiss, and he could almost taste her sadness. "Let go, Arthur. You have to wake up."

"I don't want to lose you…"

She backed up, away from him. "Let go, Arthur. You have to let me go."

"I can't…"

"I made my own choices, Arthur. You never had to agree with them, just accept them. You have to accept reality. You have to. This isn't you. This isn't what I would have wanted for you."

"Ariadne…"

_"Let me go!"_

Wind whipped up around them, and all of the projections from the subject turned in unison and stared at him, eyes solid black and faces horrifyingly blank. Arthur wanted to reach out for her, but suddenly the gap between them widened, and she was slipping farther and farther away. The wind swallowed his scream of agony, and he was left reaching out into nothingness.

_Don't leave me…_

And then Arthur woke, alone as before and none the wiser. The room was empty, no subject, no extraction, no job.

He hit the red button and slid under into sleep again.

The End


End file.
